


Reassurance

by Tallulah



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Hugs, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 19:39:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17209718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallulah/pseuds/Tallulah
Summary: Rester only saw another side of Near on three occasions.





	Reassurance

Rester had had no idea what to make of Near. You don’t tend to get eighteen-year-olds leading investigations, particularly not ones who only wear pyjamas and have a tendency to sprawl around on the floor and play with toys. Perhaps if Near had clearly been doing it out of an attempt to be _cute_ , to be _kooky_ , Rester would have resented it; or perhaps if Near hadn’t demonstrated within about an hour that he was the brightest person in the room and the most well-informed about the Kira case to boot. 

It quickly became clear, as well, that Near didn’t need to be spoken to like a child, and didn’t expect anything but efficiency, plus tolerance of the ever-present toys. Fair enough. Rester’s got kids of his own, he wasn’t looking to be a father substitute to anyone. If he’s honest with himself, the kids have taken second place to the job on more than several occasions. To start viewing Near as a child would’ve been hypocritical. 

The façade – or, no, it’s not a façade, it’s just how Near is –

He is only different on three occasions. 

After most of the SPK are killed, he reaches out and tugs at Rester’s shirt sleeve, and then grips his arm: evidently satisfying himself Rester’s still alive, because he says, _I’m very glad he let you survive. I’m sorry about all of them, but I’m very glad it wasn’t you as well._ Rester goes with, _Thank you_ as a response, figures he might as well take it as a compliment that Near thinks he’s worth keeping around.

When the plane takes off Near digs his nails into Rester’s arm, takes a deep breath, stares wide-eyed straight ahead of him. Rester chooses not to say _Tell me a genius like you isn’t scared of flying._ He pats Near’s shoulder with his free hand and once they’re in the air, Near smiles at him, and says, _It’s the take-off I dislike. The air feels wrong._ Rester says he understands.

In the small hours of January 28th when Rester’s given up on sleep and has got up, got dressed and is making himself some coffee – sometimes you just have to commit to the insomnia – Near shuffles into the kitchen area, looking like a little ghost, or someone far younger than he is, and Rester manages not to say, _It’s lucky you’re not interested in drinking, there’s no way you’re not going to get carded for the rest of your life_. As if he had said it, Near says:

_I think I’m right._

_About…?_ Stupid question. What else would they be thinking about right now? Near doesn’t bother to answer it, at any rate. _I’ve done my best to anticipate all unexpected variables and account for them._ He’s holding the Kira Lego figure in one hand; turns it over and over. There’s even a bit of moonlight to illuminate it. 

_I know you have,_ Rester says.

_If it’s not enough,_ Near says, _then I’m very sorry._

_We couldn’t have done more._ Rester goes to sit down on one of the low chairs, blows on the coffee. _And we’ll know very soon if we…_ He stops, and Near carries on, _If I have made a mistake? Yes. You’ve put yourself into many more dangerous situations than I have, haven’t you? I assume the waiting is the worst part?_ He shuffles over to sit next to Rester, draws his knees up to his chest.

_I think the waiting and knowing there’s nothing more you can do is the worst part. It’s hard not to second-guess yourself, then._

_Jump at shadows._

_Yeah, I guess._

Near hugs his knees and breathes out, slowly, calmly, as people do when they’re trying not to panic, and Rester wonders what it must be like, being eighteen and trying to wrap your head around the idea that you might die in a few hours. He’s not going to say _It’ll be all right_ , but he squeezes Near’s shoulder, and the boy huddles close to him and so – feeling stupid, feeling awkward, feeling like he’s pretending to offer comfort he doesn’t feel – he hugs him round the shoulders, as he’s hugged his kids sometimes when they were worried about a new school or an exam or a big game. He’s been trying not to think about them, not today.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 12daysChristmas on LiveJournal, prompt "three offered hands", and requested by still_lycoris.


End file.
